Trixie is still alive. Her eyes look sunken. She's drinking lots of water on her own. No sign of labor. She's still not eating.
I was scared to go to the barn this morning. My sleep was filled with dreams of Trixie and her kids- alive and recovering. The spaces between those dreams were filled with deep worry that she would not be alive when I went out this morning. Or that I might find a tiny kid, wet and lifeless next to her lifeless mother. Morbid, I know.
And then there was the very real and worrisome concern of what will I do with her if I find her dead? I'm not sure I could bear not to know how many kids she is carrying. Could I dig a hole that big? That was followed by prayers that I won't have to deal with that. I am exhausted.
I gave her the morning dose of propylene glycol. She really hates that and put up a pretty good fight.
And so another day of poking and prodding, drenching and injecting has begun. And praying. Lots of praying. I need that Dex to kick in and fast!